An arrow from the past
by outshinebycomparison
Summary: 1921. Oliver Queen has been missing for five years and he finally comes home. After volunteering in World War 1 he'd been made prisoner by Germans in Africa. A tragic event ultimately brings him back to Starling City, where everything has changed. With the help of Felicity Smoak and John Diggle,he starts a new life. Team Arrow/Olicity AU (As usual, english is not my first language)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_**June 1921**_

Moira Queen heard a car driving on the gravel and wondered who could it be, since she wasn't expecting anyone. She looked out the big window and saw a black car stop in front of their entrance. Two men wearing a military uniform came out and rang the bell of the Queen Mansion.

"Mrs. Queen. There are two men from the War Department who have asked to speak with you" the housekeeper said.

"Did they say why?" She asked perplexed.

"Only that it was an urgent matter "

"Let them in then. I'll be waiting in the living room" Moira said sighing.

"Mrs. Queen, we are very sorry to disturb you without previous notice. But we didn't have time as things have happened quite rapidly. You can confirm us that your son's name is Oliver Jonas Queen?" Major Smith said after introducing himself.

Moira's heart sank "It was. Have you found his grave?" She asked resigned.

Major Smith looked straight into her eyes "No ma'am" He paused. "He is alive".

Moira Queen was a stern woman, there weren't many things that would get her. But this time she felt so weak in her legs that she had to sit down.

"This can't be. Where is he, what happened?" She said whispering.

"He is on his way to the United States now. We don't have much detailed information but he contacted the American Embassy in Dar Es Salaam a few weeks ago"

"We were told he had been killed in the Battle of Mahiwa" She objected.

"Apparently he was severely wounded and then made prisoner by the Germans. When the war ended he was still in poor condition and was taken to a local village."

"And then?"

"Then you'll have to ask your son".

_**Five years earlier**_

_**June 1916**_

Oliver Jonas Queen, aged 24, knew he was always the centre of the attention at any social even of Starling City. He was rich, handsome, charming and he had everything he wanted. He was engaged to Laurel Lance, a beautiful socialite he was planning to marry soon. His only duty was toward the Starling Weekly, a report magazine owned by his family company, Queen Industries, of which he was the editor. He approved the articles written by his staff, the layouts and the advertisement.

His father had decided to make him work there, once he had finished university by the skin of his teeth. Robert Queen thought the magazine to be an easy experience for his son. He wanted him to mature enough so one day he could take control of the Company. He and his wife Moira had realized they had been too permissive with their son, who had become too carefree. They had another daughter, Thea. She was 16 years old and too bright for her age.

Oliver Queen woke up in the morning at 7.30. Well it happened usually just a couple of times during the week, because he often went to parties and arrived home very late. Raisa, the beloved housekeeper, would knock at his door with a cup of coffee and a couple of toasts. If she didn't get any answer she knew to come back later, because when he was up, he would usually open the door himself.

That morning he'd been up already at 6. He hadn't managed to sleep very well. He didn't understand why, he hadn't even drunk much the previous night. He had gone with Laurel to a friend's birthday dinner. Thomas Merlyn Jr was actually his best friend, son of Malcolm Merlyn, another powerful magnate of Starling City. They had grown up together, attending the same school and university, doing the same sports, going to the same places. Tommy was an only child and Oliver was like a brother to him.

Raisa raised her arm and was an inch from the door to knock it, when Oliver opened the door and smiled at her.

"Mr. Oliver" She sighed, putting her hand on her chest. "You almost frightened me!"

"I'm very sorry Raisa, I didn't mean to" he said taking the trail from her hands and putting it on his desk.

"You are already dressed Mr. " She noticed, while taking a few steps inside his room.

"I couldn't sleep. And then I became tired of turning around in my bed" He shrugged. "Is my family up?"

" is having breakfast in the dining room and Miss Thea should be ready to go to school"

"Thank you. I think I'll join Thea on her way to school. I'll ask Adam to leave me at the publishing house"

"Then I'll tell him to wait" Raisa said leaving. Oliver drank quickly his coffee and looked at himself the mirror, adjusting his necktie. Then he ran down the stairs and joined his sister in the back of their car.

"Adam told me you were coming too, but I was finding it hard to believe" Thea said amused.

"Well, I guess I can't really blame you" He said patting her knee " How is school?"

Thea grumbled "It's good but it's boring. And I'm surrounded by little minxes. Unfortunately, no matter how much I try, father won't let me transfer into a mixed school"

"Aah, boys!"

"NO! Well yes. Well I think a mixed school would be more challenging for me. And I think I would have a better education. I feel we're not getting enough here, because in the end they are just preparing us to be the wives of important men"

"I'm afraid I have to agree on that. But it was either this one, or a boarding school in England" He said.

They arrived at the school and Oliver gestured to Adam that he was going to open the car for her sister. He quickly got out and run to the other side to open the door for Thea. Then he kissed her cheek and wished her a good day.

Once he got back in the car, Adam told him "I see what you were doing sir". When he had kissed his sister, the girls around them had been swooning, whispering and sighing. He had done it on purpose.

"Thea wasn't overstating. But in the end, that's the age!" he winked. "This school has been around for years, but they should definitely be oriented in a modern way" He thought.

Adam drove Oliver to the publishing house, a nice Victorian building located downtown in King Street, which could have been compared to London's Fleet Street.

Oliver entered the building, wondering why people were surprised to see him, but when he saw his Miss Prudence, his secretary, gasping and looking at him wide-eyed, he asked.

"Is something wrong Prudence?"

"No sir. Not at all, good morning to you! Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks. But I'd like to have the magazine, it's out right?"

"Yes sir, I'll be right back. I was going to bring it to you later, because I didn't think to see you this early"

"Is it really that early?" He asked.

"You usually arrive after 10 sir" Prudence said holding her breath. Oliver looked at his pocket watch, it was 8.30. No wonder, he thought. Miss Prudence arrived a minute later with the newest copy of the Starling Weekly. He would usually flip through the pages but this time the main article of the week caught his attention quite immediately. It concerned the Lafayette Escadrille, an escadrille of the French Air Service, composed mostly by American volunteer pilots. It was something that made him think. There were young men like him, his compatriots. And they had decided to go fight a war that wasn't theirs, risking their lives each time they stepped on one of those planes. They were remarkable men, he thought with a bit of longing.

Oliver was holding the magazine in front of him and noticed how neat the printing was. As if something had changed from the last edition. He called back Prudence and asked her if she had seen that change too. His secretary nodded and wondered if it was the paper or something in the typography section. Oliver was impressed and decided to go down to talk to the supervisor. He walked down the stairs to the lower ground and entered the printing room. The place was loud as they were still printing additional copies of the magazine.

" Mr. Smoak?" he called.

"Mr Queen, good morning. What can I do for you?" he asked politely but surprised.

"Mr. Smoak" He paused to lift the magazine "What have you changed? Is it the paper or the press, but the magazine has never looked so neat"

"Ah, you noticed!" Mr. Smoak answered. Oliver didn't know if he should feel slightly offended. "We adjusted the color distribution in the press" he paused "We changed a piece in the press, that's why"

"Well done sir, the magazine has never looked better"

"Thank you, but I have to admit it was not my idea"

Oliver looked at him questioning.

"And none of the guys either. It was my daughter's "

"Does she work here too?" Oliver looked around.

"No, Felicity is just a girl, she still goes to school. But she likes all mechanical things" His father said almost apologetically "And she wants to be an engineer! Can't she just get married like all the girls?" He shook his head.

"Or she can do both, if she wants" Oliver said winking.

"Oh well…" Mr. Smoak said scratching his head.

"Please tell her that her idea was very clever and I appreciated it" Oliver bid farewell and went back to his office. He sat at his desk and kept reading the rest of the magazine.


	2. Chapter 2

**_July 1916_**

In the following weeks Oliver kept reading almost obsessively all the newspaper and magazine reports about the war in Europe. The Lafayette Escadrille story had stuck into his mind and clicked something in his conscience. And then the Battle of the Somme had begun in France. Reading the numbers of the victims, whether they were killed or wounded, had left him dismayed. It was a butchery, and it seemed to have no ending.

That was the reason why he had been acting like in a daze. It was his fiancée Laurel who had finally pointed out to him his behavior.

"Hello my love!" She said placing her hat on his desk and then kissing him on his cheek.

"Laurel! What are you doing here?" He asked almost flatly.

"You have never looked so not-happy to see me!" She said irritated. "We've got a cocktail party to attend, don't you remember?"

Oliver shook his head. He had totally forgotten, and to be quite honest, he didn't care about it. Those parties were the same old story. He had noticed that every time they talked about the war, it was mindless and his friends concern seemed acted. And when he had brought up the topic, it seemed like nobody really wanted to pay attention. Somebody once said to him "Really Oliver, YOU want to talk about the war?" He had then become aware that perhaps he was well liked, but in truth people didn't take him seriously. Why would Oliver Queen care? He has never cared.

"Do you think I'm a shallow?" He asked abruptly, ignoring her question.

Laurel's face turned serious.

"What has gotten into you?" She sat down in front of him. "Well, if you want the truth, you are quite the epitome of superficiality, but no more or less than most of the people"

"Thank for your honest answer" He said attempting a smile. "I hope you don't mind too much, but I really don't want to go that cocktail party"

"But we promised we'd be there!" She objected.

"I know. But I'd rather go home. You are more than welcome to dine with us, you know that" He said trying to make amends.

Laurel grumbled but had to agree. Oliver was that stubborn, she knew he wouldn't easily change his mind. She told herself she needed to talk to him about his strange behavior.

Back at the Queen's mansion, they had a quiet dinner with his family, until Robert Queen and one of his administrators, Walter Steele, brought up the war subject, starting from weapon supplies.

Oliver was listening interested and at the same time uncertain. His father and Mr. Steele were sure that sooner or later the United States would have joined the conflict, stating that in the end, political and economical reasons were going to prevail.

Oliver agreed, but naively thought that there was more than that. And he made the mistake of voicing it out loud.

"I think we also have a duty toward our European friends" He said clearing his voice. His father and Walter Steele literally turned their heads in unison, when they heard him speak.

"What are you talking about?" his father said in a tone as if he was ready to mock him.

"We…well, you have read the news, and you know what's going on in Europe. Yes, the Germans definitely do not like us helping the Allied. They didn't have any problem in sinking the Lusitania. But despite that, they are suffering terrible losses. How long can we stay and watch this massacre happen? Doesn't our country know better the value of independence?"

Robert Queen started to laugh. "I didn't know you were so idealistic son!" He leaned over the table and looked at him. "I'll tell you one thing. This kind of thinking works well for propaganda, but not for us. If we are to intervene, there has to be more than that!"

"Would you join the army if we were at war with Germany?" Mr. Steele asked.

"Why not?" Oliver answered shortly.

"Walter, he would join the army only over my dead body. I wouldn't let my only son die in a war" Robert Queen interrupted. "And I'm not really sure he would join anyway, I know my son"

"Do you father?" Oliver was trying to be calm."You know, I would really like to see how you could prevent me to enlist"

"Don't you worry about that" He asserted.

Oliver was irritated. He was irritated by the way his father was talking to him and by the fact that in the end, he knew where he was coming from. He threw his napkin on the table and stood up.

"I think I'm not hungry anymore. If you would excuse me" He hissed. "Mother, please tell Adam to take Laurel home" He said and walked away, knowing that somehow he was proving his father right.

He stopped in the hall of their mansion and decided to go out. He took one of their cars and drove to a bar he used to go from time to time.

He ordered a gin-tonic and sat in front of the bar's counter. The Star Club was quite crowded, for being a Thursday night. A man was sitting near him, drinking his third beer and smoking a cigarette. He glanced at him and said:

"You've got quite the face there. Is there a woman causing you a problem?" The man had a British accent.

"What makes you think it's about a woman?" Oliver asked a bit peeved.

"I just have the impression that a man like you could only have a problem with a woman"

"You couldn't be more wrong. What's up with you?" He said trying to change the topic.

"My last night as a free man. I'm going back to England to enlist in the British Army. To make my family happy!"

"Did they push you into enlisting?"

"Yes. We left England 5 years ago because we couldn't have a good life there, and now my parents want me to fight for that country. Ironic, I say"

Oliver nodded and looked away for a moment. Then he turned to the man and said.

"What time are you leaving?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "Tomorrow at 12.30. I'm taking a train to New York and then the first boat that has the cheapest ticket. I don't have much money, unfortunately"

"That won't be a problem. Hear me, I think I'm going to come with you. Let's meet tomorrow half an hour before the train leaves at the ticket counter. I'll take care of the rest"

The man didn't seem to understand. "Why? What do you want to do? I hope you're not willing to enlist, I mean, you're an American!"

"Well, let me say that I know the right people, in the right places. And yes, I'm thinking of enlisting, but I'll talk about this later"

Oliver looked at him for a second. He needed to start it right now.

"By the way, I'm Jonas Smoak, nice to meet you" In the span of few seconds he gave himself a new name.

"I'm Felix Stratton, nice to meet you too" He stood up from the chair. "I think I'm going home and sleep, these three beers are about to take their toll on me" They shook hands and he left.

Oliver returned home long after midnight. He sat on his bed for a while and then went to his desk. He wrote two letters, one to his sister, and one to Miss Prudence. The next morning he woke up early and went to the publishing house, where nobody was still there, except the people in the printing room. He left the letter on Miss Prudence's desk, and then went to his office and looked around for the last time. He was going to miss it all, but he had made his decision.

Oliver wanted to be part of the war effort, he wanted to prove his father he wasn't just a boy born with the silver spoon in his mouth. It was a stubborn and sudden decision, but he didn't know any other way.

Oliver left the building in time before the staff started to come in, and went to the port, where he knew someone who would help him replicate a false British birth certificate. It took a few hours, and a nice amount of dollars for a piece of paper stating that Jonas Smoak was born in London, on May 16th 1892.

Finally he reached the train station where he met up with Felix Stratton.

"I hope you haven't purchased the tickets yet" His new friend shook his head.

"Two one way tickets to New York" He said at the ticket counter. "First class"

**_England – November 1916 _**

"Well done, private Smoak", Lieutenant Garrett said. Oliver had shot quite perfectly in his last drill at the firing range. He nodded, taking a deep breath.

"You definitely are ready for combat. In facts, I have news!" He went on.

"Really? I'm finally going to the front?" He said hopeful, standing up.

"We're going to be shipped to Africa" Lieutenant Garrett said.

"Africa?" Oliver felt disconcerted. He'd thought to go to France.

"In three days. We're headed to Eastern Africa. It's British Empire, in the end"

"Yes sir, it is indeed"

"I hope you're not seasick, private. It's going to be a long trip"

"If you remember, I travelled from the United States by boat"

"Right, I forgot. You haven't lost your accent, did you say you were born there?"

"No sir, I was born in England, but I was a few months old when we left"

Oliver's plan had worked well. Once in New York, he and Felix had hopped on the first ship headed to England, and from there they'd travelled to London, joining the first recruitment office. During the trip, Oliver had observed, listened and talked very little, until he was sure he could fake the accent. Desperate for men, they had overlooked at the suspicious elements in his story, and sent him to training camp in Cheshire.

Having changed his name, his family hadn't managed to track him. He was feeling guilty for not having contacted the after leaving. In his letter to Thea, he had said very little, and mostly his affection to his little sister. To Prudence, he had left instructions, appointing her as vice-president and leaving her in charge of future editions of the magazine.

Three days later, Oliver and his regiment embarked for a several weeks long trip to Eastern Africa.

It was a dangerous sailing from the start, because the U-boots were attacking ships both in the Channel and the Mediterranean Sea. It was early December when the warship docked at Dar Es Salaam. Oliver grabbed his gear and walked down to the dock. It was very hot and dry.

"Welcome to Africa!" Felix Stratton shouted while running past him.

"Welcome indeed" He murmured. _Now it begins _He thought while following his regiment to the train that was going to take them to Lake Victoria.


	3. Chapter 3

**October 18th, 1917**

**Battle of Mahiwa**

Oliver was exhausted. The battle had been going on for 4 days, and it was draining all of his energy. He was eating and breathing dust so much he had sworn he would never go back to Africa again, if he survived the war.

'"Oh shit, they're really going to bring that hill down, Sergeant!" Private Phelps yelled at Oliver.

"I know it's going to happen if we don't stop their artillery now" Oliver panted. He had to make a quick decision, something he had become good at, and had gained him the promotion to Sergeant.

"We have to try to get to the machine gun over there, let's go!"

Captain Garrett observed them run fearlessly under the heavy shelling of the Germans. It was a risky but brave choice, perhaps their last chance to stop the inevitable. The casualties were getting bigger and bigger.

He saw them reaching the machine gun and starting to fire back. But then the Germans attacked them with two of their biggest cannons and those caused a huge explosion. Captain Garrett stood up agitated, looking toward the direction where Sergeant Smoak and Private Phelps had run. The ground was battered as never seen before, and there was no trace of his two soldiers. He realized they were dead. As it was getting clear that the battle was lost, the British slowly started to withdraw. Captain Garrett, knowing he had no time to waste, ordered his men to follow.

Oliver tried to open his eyes. He felt like he was buried with all the soil of the world. Then he tried to turn around and get up but was stopped by an immense pain in his back and left leg. He suddenly saw the shadow of a man emerging from the dust.

"Er ist noch am Leben!" _He is still alive. _It was the voice of a German soldier. The battle was over.

**Early November, 1918**

**German War Prisoners Camp, somewhere near Lake Tanganyika**

It had taken Oliver months to heal from the multiple fractures on his left leg and the wounds on his back. As a war prisoner, he had been transferred a few times in different camps and he'd never recovered well enough to try to escape. Now he was in a camp not far from Lake Tanganyika, as he had been told.

Just when he was getting back on his feet, an epidemic of yellow fever had arrived at the camp. Of 20 prisoners, only half had survived, and he was one of them. He'd been imprisoned with Belgian, French and South African soldiers and officers.

Oliver didn't know how many days or weeks passed. He had lost track of day and night. He didn't remember when he was sleeping, when he was awake or when he was hallucinating. Every time he tried to sit up his head started spinning violently, and he had to crush back on the cushion. He wanted to be angry and throw things, but he was so ill he didn't even have the strength to breathe.

He knew he dreamt of his family, in particular Laurel and his sister Thea. They must have believed he was dead, because he had never been able to contact them, and the casualties at Mahiwa had been enormous.

Oliver had heard his mates talking about the end of the war. News were coming and going and the fact that the Germans were acting in a different way, it was telling. This finally gave Oliver hope, because until now, he had concentrated all his will in trying to stay alive.

His conditions got poorer. His mates thought that in the end, for much he was tough, he wouldn't make it. When the end of the war was announced, the Germans had fled the camp leaving the prisoners on their own. When they had gathered around Oliver's bed to make plans, he had imperatively told them to leave him there, he would have managed on his own. His mates left him some provisions and a rifle with munitions, and left the camp.

**May 1920**

**Somewhere near Lake Tanganyika**

One year and a half had passed. A couple of days after Oliver was left alone, he had been found by Xhabo, the chief of a village nearby. Xhabo had shouldered him and carried him to his village, where his wife Wande had nursed him patiently as if he was her son.

What the western knowledge hadn't managed to do, Wande, the village healer, did. Oliver fought and won the yellow fever, but then he started another battle, the one that concerned the wounds in his heart.

During the battle of Mahiwa, Oliver had sworn he'd never come back to Africa once the war was over. But now he had no desire to go back to Starling City. Life in that little village was simple but very tough, and it couldn't be more different from what he was used to before the war. Oliver literally owned only the clothes he was wearing, and a bow and arrow Xhabo had built him. And he needed nothing more. He had slowly grown accustomed to the routine of the village, and day by day his nightmares had thinned out.

Oliver, or _Mzungu_, as they called him affectionately, became part of Xhabo and Wande's family. Their older son had died fighting for the Empire, but they still had two small children, a boy and a girl called Abasi and Adimu. The twins adored Oliver, who played with them as if he was playing with Thea.

One day Oliver came back to the village with an antelope he had caught with just one arrow.

"You have become a good hunter now Mzungu. Wande will be proud of you" Xhabo said.

Oliver smiled. It was the first time he went hunting alone. The animal was quite large and would have provided meat for his family for a long time.

"I'm still far from being as good as you Xhabo. I've been away the whole morning" He said while looking at the sun which was at its peak in the sky.

"One step at a time, Mzungu" Xhabo said quietly. When he went hunting, it didn't take him more than one hour to come back with something. In that part of the country hunting was very important, and the first thing that Xhabo had taught Oliver was to use the bow and the arrows. He had noticed he was particularly skilled with it. Oliver had shrugged; he said he'd learned to be precise at the shooting range.

Wande let out a big cry when Oliver showed her the antelope. Wande had come to care for this young man, perhaps because he had a quietness and gentleness that reminded her of his lost son. She knew he had suffered, she had seen him suffer, and she wondered why he didn't want to go back to his family. When she asked him, he'd been very vague. He kept saying that he didn't want to go back to that old life.

That night Oliver cooked for his new family a good chunk of the Antelope. They sat around the fire and eat, and everything was just good.

**May 1921**

It was unusual to see white men coming to the village. It had happened a few times, but every time Oliver had been out hunting, and Xhabo knew that he wasn't interested in talking to them.

That morning Oliver was staying at their house, repairing a side of the roof. Wande was collecting roots with the twins.

Then Abasi and Adimu had run to him screaming and jumping that there was a white man at the village, a priest. Oliver sighed; a priest was the last person he wanted to see. But then Adimu said that he talked like him, and Oliver had come to the conclusion that he must be American too. He placed down his tools and followed the twins.

The white man was indeed a priest. He was on a horse with a few belongings, and he had stopped to store some water. He was surprised to see Oliver. Well surprised was not the correct word. His facial expression was so amusing Oliver had to laugh.

"Good morning sir, what brings you here?" He said politely and smiling.

"I…ehm good morning to you. Please forgive me, I didn't expect to find a…"

"A white man in an African village. My name is Oliver" Oliver finished for him.

"Yes, I admit it. I'm headed to Kigoma, I have a small parish church there. I've just come back from the United States, I've been visiting my family in Chicago. I'm father Roberts, by the way" He paused. "You are American too I see, may I ask what you are doing here?" He said cautiously.

"It's a long story" Oliver said "I came here to fight, but I've had a few adventures and I decided to stay here once the war was over" He didn't need to know the whole truth. "I'm from Starling City" He added finally.

"Starling City. That's curious" He said. Oliver raised an eyebrow.

Father Roberts took out a two months old newspaper from his bag. "These are the last news I've read while I was on the boat. There's a big article about your city" He handed the Times to Oliver.

Oliver took the newspaper in his hands as if it was something he'd never seen before. In facts he hadn't read a newspaper in years.

_Starling City magnate Robert Queen, president of Queen Industries, has died in a airplane accident last Friday. He was flying to New York…._

Oliver didn't finish the article. He fell on his knees and buried his head in his hands. Xhabo and Wande rushed to him. Father Roberts took the newspaper Oliver had crumpled just where the article was printed.

Robert Queen was dead. His father, to whom he had never said goodbye and left in a momentum of childish pride. He was supposed to be alive and safe in America.

He looked at Xhabo and Wande with his eyes full of tears.

"My father is dead" he said. Wande and Xhabo embraced him tight.

"Dear Lord, you are Oliver Queen!" Father Roberts said, but then, realizing immediately that he had used no tact, he said "I apologize, I'm so sorry for your loss. I wish you had found it in another way"

Oliver stood up.

"Yes I am. Do you know about me?"

"Well, your story was all over the national news. Your family found out and thought you had died in battle"

Oliver looked down. Dad had died, himself was thought to be dead. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must feel for his mother and sister, left alone with the responsibility of the Queen Industries on their shoulders.

Xhabo walked near him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"My dear Mzungu, it's time to go home to your family" Oliver nodded. He knew he couldn't hide there anymore.

The next day he left with Father Roberts for Kigoma. He needed to find a passage to Dar Es Salaam and then contact the American Embassy. But first he needed to find a job that would allow him to travel. Father Roberts promised to help.

Bidding farewell to Xhabo, Wande and the twins was hard. Oliver told them he loved them as his own family and he would never forget them. Xhabo gave him his own bow and arrows and Oliver took them with trembling hands. It was a gift of the highest honor.


	4. Chapter 4

**June 1921**

**Starling City**

Moira and Thea Queen were standing in the hallway holding hands. Moira's hand was cold and steady, Thea's was warm and trembling. Oliver would be coming home any minute.

Ten days ago they had received the shocking news of Oliver being alive. It had caused them quite an emotional turmoil, just a few months after the devastating death of their husband and father. And five years after believing Oliver dead.

When Oliver had fled home that morning in June, they thought it was a joke. But then he hadn't contacted them and they couldn't locate him anywhere due to his fake name. Once they found out what name he was hiding behind, it was too late. He was listed as "killed in action" after the Battle of Mahiwa. Their son and brother had died in a god forgotten place, and they didn't even have a body to bury. It had been a lot to handle.

"Mother?"

"Yes darling?"

"I don't know what to say to him. I'm so happy to have him back but…"

"To be honest, I don't know either. I would love to scold him for leaving us like a thief in the middle of the night, but in the same time I know he's suffered too much for his own good. All I want is to see him again"

"How can we ask him what has happened?"

"We won't, darling. He will tell us when he feels like doing it" Moira said sweetly.

"We also have the Laurel and Tommy problem" Thea reminded.

"I think he'll understand. It's been five years and we all thought he was dead. And it's not like Laurel didn't have any right to be angry with him. He is the one who left without saying goodbye to her"

"Mother, I know you don't like to hear it, but I'm sure Oliver wasn't never really in love with her. It's mostly because it's Laurel AND Tommy"

Moira rolled her eyes and said nothing.

A car drove to the entrance. Thea squeezed her mother's hand.

Raisa opened the door and stepped aside, trying to restrain herself from crying.

The man who stepped in wasn't the man they remembered. His was thin but his body had become stronger. He was tanned, his skin almost bronzed. His sand blond hair was lighter, burnt by the sun. He was still handsome as ever, his features just hardened.

Oliver attempted a smile. He looked quickly around the hall of his home, where nothing had changed, and then he placed his gaze on his mother and sister. Moira Queen was the gracious and elegant woman she had always been, and Thea…Oliver sighed. She wasn't his little sister anymore. She was a beautiful young lady. He counted in his mind that she was 21 years old now. He felt his stomach sink with guilt.

Moira and Thea run to Oliver and hugged him. His tightened up body relaxed when he found himself in their arms, it was a familiar feeling he thought he had forgotten.

Once they stepped back he smiled again.

"Mother, how are you doing?"

"I'm good now that I have you back" She said with teary eyes. He then turned to Thea.

"I'm so happy to see you! Look at you, you are a woman!" He said melancholically.

Thea grabbed him by his elbow and said "You have changed too. But I'm stating the obvious. Shall we go to the living room? Or do you want to go to your room?" She paused "I've missed you so much Ollie!"

His brother smiled softly and said "No, not yet. I'd like some coffee if possible. Haven't had a good cup for a long time"

"I'll be right back with your coffee, Mr. Oliver" Raisa said.

They proceeded to the living room, and sat down, Oliver in front of his family. He knew they were feeling awkward and probably had questions. He knew it was all up to him, so he started first.

"Would you tell me about father? I read it on an old newspaper in Africa. But it had just happened so there wasn't much information, and the missionary who gave me the paper didn't know much more"

Moira took a deep breath. It was painful to remember those facts again.

"It's very simple. Your father had purchased a small airplane built by Merlyn Industries. One morning he took it to fly to New York for a business meeting, and it crashed fifteen minutes after leaving. Probably a mechanical problem, but the plane burned so much, there was almost nothing to analyze"

Oliver stayed quiet for a moment.

"What did Merlyn said about it?"

"Merlyn? He is devastated of course. This new plane was his flagship and Robert has been a friend for years, not only a rival" Moira seemed taken aback by his son's question.

"Of course he was, of course"

Oliver shifted his legs on the sofa.

"Did you attend Laurel's and Tommy's wedding?" He asked bluntly.

"How…you know then?" Thea said.

"I spent a week on a boat on my way to New York. There were plenty of old magazines and newspapers to read. It looked like it was one of the most covered social events of the year"

Moira wasn't sure if his tone was sarcastic or disappointed.

"We were invited, and we attended. Your father was adamant"

"I see, good" He said flatly.

"Does it bother you?" Thea asked.

"Not anymore. It's been five years, I'm glad she moved on with her life" He hastened to say.

When Oliver read the first article on that wedding, which had taken place the previous summer, he was shocked: of all people, Laurel had married Tommy! Tommy was his best friend. He wondered if they had bonded over grief, or anger.

"I'm happy to hear you are fine with this" Moira said.

"As I said, it's been five years, mother. I think I overrated my feelings for her, so I guess it's better this way" Oliver had enough of that argument so he switched topic do Thea, asking what she was doing now. She had finished school and was managing the Verdant Restaurant and the Café, a Night Club attached to it.

"You're aware of the alcohol ban, aren't you?" She sighed.

"I am. It's absurd. As if this prohibition would resolve the problems connected with alcohol. Criminal organizations are having a feast on that" He asserted.

"They are" Moira said "It's a huge issue everywhere, Starling City included. There is no day a newspaper doesn't talk about it"

"Speaking of newspapers. I gather the Starling Weekly is doing well? I think I'm going to stop there this afternoon"

"It's in excellent shape. Your Mrs. Prudence has been surprisingly a good vice-president"

"Good, I am actually eager to back to work there" He said.

"I think we should also talk about your role in the Queen Industries. Now that Robert is gone…"

He interrupted sharply. "I've also heard that Queen Industries are in excellent shape thanks to Walter Steele. The group is in good hands. At the moment I'm only interested in getting back at the magazine".

"But…" Moira started.

"Sorry mother, but this is the deal now" He stood up the sofa a bit irritated.

"If you don't mind calling the driver, I would like to go the magazine now"

Thea gestured at Raisa and she nodded leaving the room. Oliver hugged quickly his mother and sister and told them he would see them again for dinner.

Moira and Thea were left dismayed. Of course Oliver had changed, but they weren't prepared anyway. He had appeared pleasant but very distant. And he had said not a single word about what happened to him.

When Oliver walked into the building, it looked like everybody had stopped breathing. They all knew he had come back, but nobody expected to see him at the publishing house so soon, or at all. He smiled politely and thanked everybody who greeted him, then he asked if Miss Prudence was in her office.

One of the employees told him that "Mrs." Prudence was indeed there. Oliver mouthed "Mrs.?"

"She got married last year" He was told.

"How nice!" He said. He knocked lightly to her door and when she heard her voice he opened it cautiously. When Mrs. Prudence lifted her head and saw him, tears filled her eyes.

"Mr. Queen, it's really you!" She stood up and rushed to embrace him. After a few seconds she stepped back and said "It's unbelievable! I read your letter…." She paused. "There are a few things that were hard to understand, but I did everything you asked me to do"

"I know. I was told that the magazine is running successfully, well done! And I also heard that you got married, congratulations!"

Prudence smiled "Well, yes I got married last year. A kind soul, and a war veteran like you" She cleared her voice.

"But the success of the magazine is due mainly to our new chief reporter, John Diggle. He's also a veteran. He's a very thoughtful writer, we really won the lottery when he joined us. I would introduce you to him but he is out for a research in The Glades now"

"There's no problem, I'll talk to him tomorrow. I also saw the recent magazines. Always perfectly printed, Mr. Smoak keeps doing a spotless job"

He saw Mrs. Prudence blank look.

"Mr. Oliver….I'm afraid I have sad news. Mr. Smoak has passed away six months ago"

Oliver looked down abashed.

"This is a sad news. I had such a respect for him" He stood quiet for a while.

Who's in charge of the printing process now? Did you hire someone new?"

"I did sir. You may find it interesting" She said.

"I'm all ears"

"It's Mr. Smoak's daughter, Felicity"

Oliver seemed amused. He remembered Mr. Smoak had talked about her daughter, had she fixed some of the machines or something? He wasn't sure, it had been a long time.

"Then I need to meet her and give her my condolences. I suppose I'll find her downstairs, right?"

"Yes sir. If you pardon me, I have a few telephone calls to make. And when you feel like doing it, I'd like to talk to you about the dozens of calls I've received about your return. Everybody wants to interview you!"

"I have something on my mind actually"

"Wonderful, can't wait to hear about it! Your office has been cleaned and ventilated" She added.

"Thank you Prudence, you're most kind"

Oliver left his hat on the desk of his office and went downstairs. Only half of the printing machines were working as the magazine had come out a few days before.

He saw a woman leaning into a machine with a spanner in her left hand. She was short, she was wearing a red skirt and a white shirt, and her blonde hair was combed in a bun.

Oliver stopped a few feet from her, and cleared his voice.

"Felicity Smoak?"

The young woman turned around stunned. She was very pretty, he noticed, and wore glasses.

"Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Oliver Queen"

"Mr. Queen, right. I heard you came back from the dea…from Africa, sorry!" She said alarmed.

Oliver couldn't help smiling. Her face had made an amusing worried expression when she had realized her lapsus. She seemed like a genuine person.

"Well, as a matter of fact, that's what happened. I was thought dead, and then I appeared back"

Miss Smoak pushed up her nose her glasses and said.

"I'm glad you are alive. My father often talked to me about you"

"About your father….Mrs. Prudence told me he passed away. I'm very sorry to hear that. Your father was a hard working man and a pillar for this magazine"

Felicity Smoak looked at Oliver Queen with sad eyes and nodded.

"I'd like to address my condolences too, for your father"

Oliver looked back at her for a while and then said "But I'm happy you have taken his place. He has spoken very fondly of you. You are an excellent addition to the magazine!"

Her face lightened up.

"Thank you. I'll do my best to not disappoint you"

"To be honest, I hope I'll be the one to not disappoint you" He said winking. Felicity gulped and watched him leaving with her jaw dropped.


End file.
